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by hoshiko2kokoro
Summary: Arthur might not hate summer as much as he used to anymore.


Summer wasn't always the best of seasons for Arthur. He hated the heat, the humidity, and the boredom that came with being out of school. Worse yet, his mother had insisted one year when he was entering the eighth grade that he should go to summer camp. She said a lot of fluff with no real cemented reasons behind her words. But her word was law in the house, and Arthur had to go.

Camp couldn't be too bad, could it? He knew some of the children that went with him; most of them from his own middle school. They seemed to comprise of the same amount of students that talked a lot at school, but never really had anything interesting to say. However, the first day of camp, Arthur knew it wouldn't be much different from that of regular school.

Cliques were made easily, and again, Arthur was left out. He had an accent. Of course he was seen as strange. Even though his accent was one that most Americans thought charming, usually saying that made Arthur sound smarter, he was a dull kid to listen to. He read and preferred to keep his thoughts to himself. He could get dirty in the dirt if he wanted to, but he chose to keep his clothes clean, especially since he was being forced to wear the same clothes for two months straight. And his mother would ramble on about how expensive they were. Arthur could do without a lecture.

The only problem was his cabin mates. Well, to be fair, it wasn't the shy Canadian, Matthew, nor was it even the loud mouth German, Gilbert, but it was really the class clown, Alfred Jones. Arthur knew him well. They had been in two classes since sixth grade; history last year and geography in sixth grade. Both years, Arthur wanted to subtly tell Alfred that perhaps he should go back and learn the basics of the world. Or maybe Arthur should just buy him a globe and a history text book, and leave it on his desk.

Nevertheless, Arthur tried to make the best of it. He was pleasant with his bunk mates, but found that Alfred was too energetic for his own tastes. He jumped on the bed, begging everyone to join him for pillow fights or staying up to talk about nothing in particular. Arthur found Alfred's weakness was when Gilbert said they'd stay up and tell scary stories.

It wasn't long before Arthur realized Alfred was an outcast too. He was cheerful and had a kind disposition, but he was more than likely told to sit elsewhere at the mess hall. He wasn't allowed to join groups during science activity times, and was left behind when out on nature walks. More often than not, Arthur would find himself walking beside him, or inviting him into his group of understanding; he'd been there before. Hell, he still was.

Even worse, Alfred wasn't as confident as he seemed. When Arthur would walk beside Alfred he'd hear the other boy talk of how he was scared of heights, bees, snakes, and other such childish nonsense. Arthur supposed he was a little more mature than Alfred. But that was to be expected.

Over the days, Arthur found himself being drawn towards Alfred more and more. He joined in with the rough housing, though not to the extent he and Gilbert got into. He was a little more open in his own fears, insecurities, and all around thoughts on the world.

Arthur might dare even call the chap his friend. Perhaps even his best friend.

Perhaps the worst part of summer was the end, Arthur thought. It was a startling thought, really. He always wished for summer to end. For school to come sooner so that he could return to his duties of being a student. Now he wished for the days to stop growing shorter and the seasons to halt in their change.

Alfred promised they'd see each other at school. He even gave him his phone number if they needed to talk. Matthew was kind and gave his number too, but Gilbert wasn't one Arthur wanted to see again, so he lied and said he didn't have a mobile.

Eighth grade brought about the typical changes within people. Summer has a habit of doing such things. True to his word, Alfred began hanging around Arthur. Rumors were abound, but most died. No one cared much for the two.

Arthur wound up answering texts and phone calls from Alfred when he would call to say he and a friend were fighting, or that he was having trouble on his history exam again, or some other such things. Arthur didn't mind. He enjoyed the excuses to talk to someone.

Summer came as effortlessly as it always did. Arthur hopped on the bus with his bag full and with a swift wave good-bye to his parents. Alfred saved him a spot by the window, knowing full well Arthur got slightly car sick if he wasn't near an open window. Matthew said his hellos, but Gilbert had found a new crew to hang out with. This year they would get a new group of bunk mates.

Luckily, Arthur and Alfred had been placed in the same cabin again. Had Arthur not had Alfred a mate, he would have paid more attention to the others in the cabin, but he couldn't remember even their names. He was playing with Alfred down by the stream between classes, exploring the wilderness when the group walked too far ahead and no one noticed they were missing.

It was this year that Alfred kissed Arthur. Just a peck on the lips, but it was enough to spark something. It was the same year that Arthur kissed him back.

At night, Alfred would wake up and look over at Arthur, knowing quite well he wasn't sleeping. He'd drape his arm out over the side of the bed and wait. In a few moments, Arthur would do the same. Their fingers would brush, eventually slinking around each other until they were awkwardly holding hands.

One fine night, Alfred stole out of bed and pulled Arthur's hand with him. Arthur followed along, curious, until they found their way to the stream. At night it was beautiful and serene and still. It was almost too romantic, but Alfred sat and pulled Arthur to sit beside him.

They kissed and touched each other's hands. Alfred tried his hand at giving a hickey, but it failed when Arthur hissed in pain and pushed away. They settled on kissing and hugging.

Their night time rendezvous became a daily ritual for the remainder of their stay. If anyone knew of them sneaking out, no one said a word.

It wasn't just kissing and hugging and touching. They still shared stories of home, of themselves, of things that made them tick. Arthur was fascinated that a boy like Alfred really was stupid, and yet brilliant enough to surprise Arthur at every turn. How he could hold Alfred's short attention was beyond him, but he was glad to have it.

They played in the stream during the day, sneaking to it at night to revel in the fact they could just be. The kisses stayed sweet, never straying further than a curious grope here and there. They didn't know what this could mean come fall. They hadn't remained the closest of friends after camp let out.

Maybe it was just the summer heat.

Fall had a way of changing everything. Alfred's childish face was starting to vanish, being replaced by a much more adult and handsome appearance. The girls took a fancy to this and clamored for his attention. Also, his energetic nature was no longer obnoxious, but more endearing. Arthur was pushed to the side, and little by little, he vanished from Alfred's life.

It must've been just the summer heat.

And yet, when the first summer of high school began and Arthur was left uninvited to parties once more, there came a night when he was woken by tapping at his window. A short while later, he had been stolen off into the night to a shaded area. They were alone. Alfred was there and everywhere again. Kissing, hugging, and whispering affections. Arthur wanted to protest, but if he pushed Alfred away, he would be alone again.

So they clung to each other in the warm night with only the moon and the crickets to see and hear them.

If it was just the summer heat, then Arthur would take it.

But then Alfred whispered against his cheek.

_You are the one, the one that lies to close me. Whispers 'hello, I've missed you quite terribly'. I fell in love with you quite suddenly. There's no place else I could be but here in your arms…_

And Arthur knew it was not the summer heat or the moonlight or the kisses or touches, but it was him. It was what he was to Alfred and what Alfred was to him.

* * *

><p><em>Hoshiko2<em>'s cents: Happy holidays everyone!

I know this is super late and totally not the holiday specials I had promised, but certain issues arose and I feel unable to write those stories anymore. I'm very sorry. I will try in the future as two of them are actually very important. I hope this was a nice make up for it.

I left it open in case I want to come back to tie it up. ;3


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